Throne of Swords
by CheeryPenguin19
Summary: Completely AU. Harry is VERY OOC. The Weasleys have an older daughter named Mel. He claims he's an ambassador from a nearby village come to check up on the once prominent Weasleys. Harry thinks she's anything but ordinary but refuses to involve her. RxR!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The sun peeped through the thick foliage, shedding beams of light on the forest. Wind rustled through the trees, masking the footsteps easily keeping up with mine. Surely, they would hesitate to follow me here, where none but the raving mad or the utterly brilliant dared to enter. Then again, who was I to make that distinction? I managed to blur the fine line between the two at every turn.

Not bothering to look back, I could hear the footsteps behind me as I tried to pad through the trees, ever conscious of the steps silently walking up the path. They were getting closer and closer before abruptly coming to a halt. Now what could it be? I was already late enough as it was, but having to constantly look over my shoulder only slowed me down more.

Where had that ambassador gone? It was true, that I wasn't really listening when my parents rambled on and on about him, but as always it was the duty of the older daughter to find this man.

I knew they must have asked for someone they could marry me off to, and then their work would be complete. Funny though that even those airheaded village girls showered him with noteworthy praise. If the rumors proved true, he would be quite a catch for any of those bumpkins.

No matter how many times I told my parents that if I did marry, it would be someone of my own choosing at a time of my own choosing, it didn't faze them in the slightest. They continued their haphazard search without my consideration. Well, they would not be pleased when they found out that I wasn't searching very hard for the missing ambassador.

I already knew that he was supposed to be here by now and that my parents were naturally afraid that he met with trouble along the way. However, in what shape was anyone's guess. He only had to follow the path. It wasn't like he was delving into the forest like me.

Obviously, the only reason I was out there was to look for the so-called ambassador and redirect him if he was lost. Bumping into him and having some ridiculous romantic encounter was ideal for their purposes. Meanwhile, I would try to evade such a cumbersome situation as much as possible.

Suddenly, a hand clamped down on my shoulder, harshly dragging me back to reality. I struggled to turn in a vain effort to see my attacker. My fingers latched onto the knife resting in its sheathe at my hip. Before I could even pull it out, a thin, muscular arm wrapped around my waist. Abruptly, I was spun and jerked against a hard chest as a distinctly masculine scent assailed my nose. His hand left my waist, keeping me pinned against him as it slipped up my back.

My head landed against the hollow beneath his throat as his fingers wound themselves in my hair to hold me in place. He successfully cut off my vision except for the thin blade of a hunter's knife and several strands of jet-black hair that tickled my face.

"Don't move," a low voice commanded. "Just answer my questions and you're free to go."

I nodded slowly, thinking that today could hardly get any worse. My hand was already switching from thoughtfully stroking the knife to eagerly fingering the cool scabbard of my sword, itching to set it free.

Smiling slightly, he allowed me to prop my hands up on his chest, so I could face him. The knife stayed against my throat, threatening to slice through the skin. Meanwhile, his other arm fell around my waist to prevent me from falling.

"Good, now, first question. Do you know of the Weasleys?" he asked.

I almost gasped, caught myself, arranged my features in what I hoped were a politely disinterested look, and glanced up at him. Who in the world was he to know that family's name?

I was shocked to see he couldn't be older than nineteen, just a year older than me. Then again, his voice was low for his age. What age? His voice would have lowered enough by now. He flipped the dark hair out of his eyes, never once taking them off mine. The ridiculous shade of green burned into me, but I held his gaze. His mouth crinkled into an amused smile, but it didn't touch the deep emerald. Apparently, he didn't buy my less than convincing attempt to pull a straight face.

I had to struggle to keep my laughter bottled up inside. He looked exactly like the kind of player those village girls would worship on sight. Even now, he looked like he had one eye focused on the knife and one on my spotless clothes that revealed quite a bit of skin. Sighing, my mind rattled off the usual excuses- they were more comfortable, easy to move in, and everyone knew I could stay clean if I chose. My clothes now just proved that.

His face abruptly sobered. The faint hint of amusement was gone from his eyes as fleeting as it had come. I just knew that despite his age, he was dangerous. He moved the blade closer to my neck, until it nicked the skin. A drop of blood rolled down the edge of the blade, landing on my palm. While maintaining my gaze, he brought my hand up, placing the knife blade carefully between my outstretched fingers.

My eyes widened in surprise, I didn't expect to find a knife like this for a while- not many were so high quality that they could leave so precise a cut. I never thought I would see this coat of arms again. I kept my surprise in check and fought to keep my eyebrows from riding up my forehead. Just who was this boy?

This boy had a hunting knife from the town's old magistrate. The only magistrate to be taken out of the histories. It was forbidden to mention his name, let alone carry a weapon with his coat of arms engraved on the hilt.

Feigning disinterest, I replied a bit more sharply than I intended.

"Who? I'm quite sure that I've never heard that name before, I would remember if I ever heard such an odd one. Now, might I ask what you are doing here?"

I immediately knew that was the wrong response. His emerald eyes twinkled with undisguised mischief, but his face remained in that inscrutable mask.

"Very well, I'm the ambassador, and you are without a doubt a Weasley. The looks aren't what I was told they would be, but the way you carry yourself is the same. They used to be known for blacksmiths, back in the day, and weapons masters cropped up every few generations, but nothing came of it. Look at the family now. The women were just as good as the men, but they have fallen behind. Obviously, you grew up the same as any girl, without ever seeing a real blade. I must apologize; this must be a shock for one such as you. A mere girl with no experience of even laying eyes on a blade," he smiled slightly, but his eyes were cold.

Looking down, he saw the knife and sword, eyes widening before he laughed.

"Why bother carrying around these weapons if you are not able to wield said blades? At any rate, if you would be so kind, could you lead the way?" He bowed slightly before looking up expectantly.

Anger coursed through me. Who did he think he was? Who was he to spout lies and half-truths about the family when he knew nothing? Staring at him hard, I tried to figure out who this person was. Did he honestly think I was like other girls? Or that I would take the insults? He was in for a rather rude awakening if that was the case. I spun on my heel and started walking back the way I came. All of a sudden, I stopped and whipped around, sword in my right hand. Raising my sword arm, I elegantly attacked.

His sword snapped up, reflexively blocking my oncoming strike. He pulled away, only to attack, aiming straight for my throat. I dodged the blow, and twisted around so my blade slashed against his with increased ferocity.

We exchanged blows for several minutes, neither of us willing to step back. I stubbornly held my ground until I realized the best way to remedy his lowly image of women. He parried every blow I sent, pushing me back slowly until I allowed my back to graze the bark of a nearby tree.

"That all you got?" he asked bemusedly, raising an eyebrow.

I grinned but didn't respond.

Switching the sword to my left hand, I slammed my sword back into his, continuing the intricate swordplay that I had mastered long ago. My strokes became stronger, cleaner and faster, wearing him out with each blow. I forced to step backwards until his back was to the tree. My sword found its way to his throat and pressed, leaving welts where it slid across the bare skin. Leaning toward him, I reached out and wiped a drop of blood from his throat. My other hand pulled him towards me until our faces were only an inch apart, but the sword remained between us.

"Pray tell, who has no experience?" I whispered in his ear, my breath ghosting across his face.

I leaned closer, looking deep into his emerald eyes, amusing myself by contemplating the number of girls who had lost themselves in those same pools. A thought flitted through my head, and I grinned on the inside. We would see how he put up with this, however fake it was. The player would be disappointing if he really lost himself in his own game.

Keeping the sword in the same place, I reached my other hand up, entangling my fingers in his black locks. I planted a slightly love struck look on my face, imitating the village girls. Slowly, maintaining eye contact the entire time, I let my hand slide down his face, gently caressing the smooth skin with my callused fingers.

He leaned into the touch, his eyes locked onto mine, impatiently gazing at me, waiting for me to move. I smiled internally, before moving my lips to slowly brush his cheek.

I almost burst out laughing when he shivered, so I continued. Closing the distance, I leaned over, mimicking the lip-locking I had seen all too often. Trying to suppress a giggle, I watched him under half-closed eyes as he angled his head to deepen the kiss. As soon as he tried to raise his hand to tangle his fingers in my hair, I pulled back. Resting my forehead against his, I allowed a slightly flirtatious smile to slip onto my face.

He smirked at me, obviously thinking I was too 'wowed' for words. Wishing I could make my little game last longer, I pulled him down one more time, before breaking away with a cold laugh, an amused smirk gracing my face.

Finally, I pulled away, watching confusion break through his own smirk. Sheathing my sword in a fluid motion, I lazily waved an arm for him to follow me. I set a fast pace, wanting to reach the tents before dinner ended. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him struggling along, tipping over under the weight of his pack.

Sighing, I turned and pulled the pack off him, marching to the front again. I could feel his eyes boring into my back when he realized that I was far from tipping over. My satisfaction diminished as memories of how I had gotten that same strength struggled to surface. A frown tugged at the corner of my mouth. He would never comprehend what I had to endure to acquire it. Shaking my head, I allowed a certain amount of smugness to return; there was no reason to get worked up. I could enjoy his shock for a little longer.

Relishing in the expression on the (undoubtedly) seldom-unfazed man, I strode confidently toward the waiting camp, ever conscious of the almost silent footsteps of my companion. If I had been any less skilled, they would have been ignored. Interesting, he would prove to be a fascinating ambassador indeed…if he was even half as good as the rumors made him out to be. Poor him, I let out a laugh, this little game would prove far too interesting to just drop, but far too dangerous for him to continue. If only for his sake, I wished he wasn't such an enticing challenge.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Read and Review please!**

**Disclaimer: All characters you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling. **

**Thank you Anonymous for the review! **

**I hope that the plot is confusing and not my writing. Then again, it would make sense in my head, with various exceptions. **

**Another thing: I have a few chapters of this story already written, but I wrote it without the intention of making it into a fanfic. So, I have to change them as I go along.**

**I hope you enjoy the next chapter!**

*****ALSO*** each chapter switches POVs. So this is HIS POV. I will make a note of that from now on. It might seem a bit weird but I do like knowing what goes on in both of their heads. But I will not repeat scenes! Unless of course, it's very important to the plot.**

Chapter 2 His POV

I walked behind her in wonder. She was a piece of work that was for sure. That long red hair rippled down her back with every step, slapping against the unusually revealing attire.

My mouth was twisting into an appreciative smile before I realized it. The outfit was certainly attractive if a little unorthodox. A long shirt, clearly designed for a man, was belted at her waist, acting as a short dress even though it only vaguely adhered to the modesty dictated by society. A sword and knife were strapped to her hip, causing the fabric to bunch up at mid-thigh. It was different to say the least, but she managed to pull off the look.

As she strolled down the path, my pack slung across her back, she moved with a grace that shouldn't have been possible with the added weight. I shook my head. Why could she move like that? It was too aristocratic. Regardless, that girl wasn't just thin like any normal woman was expected to be, she had muscle. Every move she made highlighted the ones in her limbs.

Besides that figure, she was amusing. Not that she was the first girl o try their advances on me, far from it. But she was definitely something else. Her advances had seemed so genuine that even I thought they were real. I had to hand it to her, first person to reject me. No one had ever left me halfway like that, especially not with such a cold laugh.

This girl was strange, she barely acknowledged that I had had the upper hand in the situation, or at least that I had a blade at her throat. I couldn't deny that I saw a flicker of interest when she looked at my knife.

Interesting, this girl was definitely worth my time. At the very least, she wasn't clinging to me, spouting useless nonsense about my looks. Instead, she seemed like she could care less about how I looked as long as we got to her family before dinner ended.

It also seemed like I was not a threat to her at all. She shouldn't have been able to hear my footsteps but she didn't turn around to even check whether I was following or not. What was with that, she was at least a year younger than I was, even though we were close to the same height, and she was almost as strong as I was? No, I had to be wrong, there was no way she could carry that pack. I admit I had faked tipping over, but I didn't think she would be able to lift it with that kind of ease. How in the world did she get that strong?

I turned my attention to the scenery, wondering how I would ever get back without a guide. Each tree looked the same to my tired eyes. Right now, I welcomed sleep. The day had been far too long. I was exhausted tremendously, being led by one of the strongest girls I had ever seen to the home of the Weasleys. What next?

I ran a hand through my black hair, trying to tame the disheveled mop. The sun had set, and the lack of light made me want to shut my eyes. Pushing aside my weariness, I hurried to keep up with the girl.

Finally, we hit a break in the trees, where the girl led me to the other side of the clearing through another barrier of thickly interwoven branches. Would we ever leave these trees?

I looked about for a cottage or cabin but found none. Several tents that littered the ground hindered my vision. There was no house or building in sight. Where was this girl's home? I started to turn toward her, a groan on my lips when she caught my arm and silently pointed toward the tents. Glancing in the direction of her finger, I saw a woman walking toward us.

Her face was only slightly lined, retaining its beauty. The same blazing red hair flowed down to reach her slim shoulders. The woman could only be the girl's mother even though the face was different. She even carried herself the same way, even though the posture seemed more suitable in aristocratic families. But then again, the Weasley family had been prominent long ago. I had to suppress a laugh. Had the posture and dignity been so engrained that it passed through the generations?

My mind snapped out of my musings as the girl elbowed me in the side so I would look up at her mother. The woman waved. The small affair was obviously only for etiquette's sake. Beckoning us closer, she reached up and pushed a fiery lock out her face. Her fingers kneaded the fabric of her well-worn apron, betraying her agitation. I could see the worry plain as day, even though that was the only noticeable sign.

"You must be the ambassador. A pleasure, I'm sure. Did Mel guide you well?" the woman asked stiffly.

So her name was Mel.

"Yes, yes. That she did," I nodded comfortingly, putting an arm about Mel's shoulders in reassurance. A smile slid easily across her face until the woman turned around to push her way into the nearby tent. The moment her back was turned, Mel shrugged my arm off and the smile disappeared as quickly as it had come.

That confirmed my suspicions. Mel could act with the best of them, first pretending to be interested in a stranger and then in front of her mother. Neither case seemed to suggest her motives.

The woman never introduced herself as Mel's mother, or even acknowledged the girl. I tucked the piece of information away for later.

I pulled her over, a little away from the tent, my hand resting lightly on her wrist.

"Mel, where's your home?" I asked, starting to get irritated, "why are we surrounded by a bunch of tents?"

She curtsied in mock civility, before turning away, her eyes downcast.

"You're standing in it. All of these tents belong to us. We have a big family and it's cheaper to buy many tents instead of a house. More convenient as well, since we can leave at a moment's notice. Any questions?" Her face was scrunched up in a look I couldn't identify. It seemed halfway between pain and longing. She shook her head quickly, muttering under her breath, "There's no need for you to know."

The breath caught in my throat at that look. I didn't want to have to deal with the raw emotion displayed there. Releasing her wrist, I gazed at her, hoping that she wouldn't start crying. I could never handle crying women. To my relief, she straightened up with a politely distant smile and motioned for me to enter the tent.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: It's me again. After I posted Chapter 2, I realized the chapters were ridiculously short. I blame Word for making them seem a lot longer. So, I will make them at least a little longer. Those two just led up to some of the stuff that happens. I had to have the first chapter for each POV so it probably was very boring. I promise it will get better!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize, which is pretty much just the names. J.K. Rowling is lucky enough to do that.**

**Oh, and Harry is really OOC here. He reminds me of Draco, or at least how people make Draco appear in fanfiction. I was wondering if I should change it, but I don't know. The idea of Harry as well, kind of playerish (yes, I know. There I go making up words again.) So, playerish, but still a good guy. **

**You'll find that I have a lot of expectations when it comes to the characters in a fanfic and I try really hard to meet them in my stories as well. I'll only mention two now:**

**-I hate when one character is sickeningly weak. Emotionally more than mentally. If they break down and cry every five seconds, I'm shouting "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you." Sorry to people out there if you like that kind of character.**

**-I hate when one character has more problems in their past than the other. Let's say it's Bill and um, random girl, Alice. (I like that name, so there.) Bill can't have more baggage than Alice. It's annoying when they can't relate to each other anymore, and you have to admit, it's kind of cool when you get to know characters and they happen to have a few skeletons in their closets.**

**As always: Read and Review!**

Chapter 3

I rolled over on my bedroll for the twentieth time. This ambassador was different. Meeting him in the woods, out in the middle of nowhere wasn't bad enough. He had a knife that essentially, should _not _be allowed to even _see _let alone own. And his sword skills were definitely something to admire.

What in the world was I doing? I shouldn't be interested in this guy. That was a very bad idea. And why did I tell him the reason we lived in tents? I mean, it wasn't the full reason, but still. I barely knew him.

I'm sure he's not too bad, but I still don't know much about him. He's definitely more than a simple ambassador, even I can see that. There's also too many questions left unanswered. I truly wish I could ask, but it doesn't seem like the right time. Still, why does he have that knife?

Anyway, this wasn't the time to worry about such things. I could worry after he went to sleep. Not that I knew where he was going to sleep. We didn't have a guest tent.

That didn't really matter for now. When we arrived, I stuck him in my sister's tent. She wouldn't appreciate it, but she wasn't there at the moment, and it was close to mine. A few hours had passed and neither of us had ventured out of our tents. I was wrapped up in my thoughts, and he was, well, I didn't know what he was doing. At one point, it sounded like he was sharpening his knife. Then, there was silence. Five minutes later, once I was convinced he was asleep; I would hear the jangling of jewelry, probably a bracelet. A moment later, the knife was being sharpened again. What was with that? If he kept it up, the blade would be long gone. I suppressed a laugh. The image of him holding a knife that had been sharpened clean away entered my mind. I chuckled. Knowing him, he would fight with the thing regardless.

My expression sobered abruptly. That was the problem. I did not know him.

I pushed the thought aside. The most pressing concern was dinner. My seven siblings wouldn't leave me alone if they saw him. I mean, he was good-looking. Even I couldn't deny that. Sighing, I pushed a hand through my hair. They would finally have material to tease me for days on end. How would I make it out alive?

Shrugging, I pulled myself off my bedroll and shook the hair out of my eyes. My bare feet padded across the tent until I reached my knee-high black leather boots. Shoving them on my feet, I walked out into the dark, allowing my boots to cover the distance to the dining tent.

I strolled past several tents, eyeing the dark interiors warily. Why were they dark? Surely, everyone was home today of all days. My mother had drilled it into our heads.

Moving faster, I passed another tent, and saw my mother walking out with a harried expression. Closing the distance, I opened my mother to ask why no one was here.

Seeing me, she waved her hand in dismissal.

"Something came up, and we're all leaving for Gwyneth. I don't have time to explain the situation. It will suffice to say that it's urgent."

I nodded in acquiescence.

"Alright, I'll go pack a few clothes and let the ambassador know."

She shook her head, "I'm leaving you in charge of the ambassador while we're gone. Make him share your tent, and keep very close to camp. We're not as safe as I would like."

She paused a second, and saw the look of annoyance flash across my face.

"No, don't give me that look. If you don't agree, then just humor me. We don't have time for this," she paused again, a frown appearing on her face.

"Just keep yourselves safe."

She turned around, starting toward the clearing I had led the ambassador to an hour ago. Five feet before the clearing, she glanced about hurriedly and ducked behind a tree. A moment later, she continued her march, the silence broken by the slap of her newly fastened knife on her thigh.

I smirked. While nowhere as skilled as me, she had bothered to take a few lessons in knife work. She could hold her own at least.

Grinning, I turned around. I remembered that day well.

_I ran down the garden path, stopping at the side to pick some daisies. They were my mother's favorite. Grabbing a handful, I raced down toward the bench my mother was sitting at. Smiling, I dashed over and presented her with the flowers._

_She dropped the knife onto the bench, and pulled the daisies into her arms. Her special smile lit up her face, as she smelled them._

"_Thank you, Mel. They're lovely."_

_Breaking off one of the stems, she placed a flower in my hair, and turned me around so she could run her fingers through the red locks that flowed down my back. I smiled up at her, and stretched up to place one in hers. Her face lit up, and she pulled me into a tight hug._

"_I love you, Mel."_

"_I love you, too, Mama," I replied quickly. "What were you working on?"_

_She released me, and picked up the knife, running her fingers along the smooth hilt._

"_I was sharpening the blade. I haven't had the time to practice in so long. Would you like to come watch me?" she asked._

"_Yes!" I replied._

_Smiling, she grabbed my hand and pulled me over to a tree. A white dot was painted on the trunk, right above our heads. _

"_You see the dot? I want to be able to hit that someday. Well, more than that. I hope I'll be able to fight with a knife too. Your father won't always be there to protect me."_

_She backed away, pulling me with her. After judging the distance, she hefted the blade in her hand, before letting it fly. It buried itself an inch away from the dot. Walking over, she pulled the still quivering knife out of the trunk._

"_I want to become better than that. You have to learn as well, Mel. If you're ever alone, you have to know how to protect yourself. Don't tell Papa," she giggled. "I also wanted to see the looks on everyone's faces when they find out that I'm as good with a knife as those weapons masters once were. Even if I married into this family, I want to prove that the Weasleys were and still are a fearsome bunch."_

_I grinned up at her, "Can I try, Mama?"_

_She laughed, "Of course."_

_I felt her push the knife into my hand. My fingers curled around the hilt, and I weighed it gently in my hand. A second later, I let it go._

I smiled. That was so long ago. It was before my father died. Before my mother became lonely, and somber. She missed him even though they had an arranged marriage. Even though she never loved him, she had found a best friend who cared for her, and helped her when she had been married into the Weasley family. But, I knew that what tore her apart the most, was that she no longer had a hand to hold. Now, she always had to be strong. She couldn't break down and cry. No one was there to wipe the tears away.

I frowned at that. She was still young enough. If she really met someone else, none of the kids would mind. They wanted her to be happy.

I knew better than to argue with her now, so I nodded at her retreating figure, wishing I knew why everyone was leaving except for me.

Slightly annoyed, I paced back to the tent next to mine. He couldn't stay there for the night. It went against orders and my sister wouldn't look kindly on the idea. Without bothering to give any indication of my arrival, I pulled back the tent flap and walked in. The ambassador was sitting by the spare bedroll, staring at an intricate bracelet. Sighing, I gave a slight cough, wishing he had noticed y presence earlier. I expected him to jump, or at least have some kind of reaction. Well, really, I was just waiting to laugh at him. Instead, he slid the elaborate piece of jewelry onto his wrist and pulled out his knife.

I swallowed my unused amusement, and cleared my throat before he started to sharpen the blade. Again, no response. Still slightly annoyed, I reached out to touch his shoulder.

"I know you're there. Speak your piece."

Jerking my hand back in alarm, I stared at his back, wondering why he knew I was there. Trying to slink out the way I came, I turned and tugged at a tent flap. Just before I exited, a hand grabbed my wrist and pulled me back. Losing my balance, I tripped over the untied black laces on my boot.

Groaning, I screwed my eyes shut and resigned myself to becoming well acquainted with the ground. There was a sharp tug on my arm, and I landed with a dull thud. It wasn't nearly as painful as I had anticipated, quite comfortable actually.

Opening my eyes slowly, I looked down. I had landed smack in the middle of the ambassador's lap. His long fingers were still loosely wrapped around my wrist as he pulled me into a sitting position.

I scrambled to get off his lap, but his mouth quirked up in amusement as he held on tighter. Grumbling inaudibly, I gave up and looked up at him questioningly.

"Any particular reason? Though I thank you for sparing me from an undoubtedly delightful meeting with the ground," I muttered dryly.

He smirked and glanced down at me, gesturing at my legs. Oh, stupid shirt. Without blushing, I pulled the fabric down from where it rode up my thigh until it covered my knees. Modesty was thrown out the window in a family this large.

Looking up again, I waited for a response.

"Just wanted to make you jump, darling."

I stiffened. So that was what he was playing at. Well, two could play that game.

"Really? You read my mind. I was planning on making you jump though," I fake pouted.

"Anyway, didn't you say we would be having dinner? I'm assuming with your family," he said, brushing off the initial topic.

My mind quickly remembered its reason for the visit.

"Right. My mother just told me that the entire family left on urgent business, so we're the only ones at camp right now. She wouldn't tell me why though. Gwyneth is very far, so I expect they will return in two weeks or so. We'll just have to get along until then."

He nodded, "Fine, but could you answer one question?"

I hesitated a moment before agreeing. One question couldn't hurt.

"How did you get so strong?"

I froze. Anything but this question.

He waved a hand in front of my face, but I didn't respond. Growling internally, I shook my head once.

"Shall we go make dinner? Or, it's late, so let's go to sleep," I said, bypassing the question.

He stared at me, trying to figure out what I was thinking.

"So, you're trying to tell me to mind my own business, aren't you?" he said, sounding slightly irritated.

"Yes," I said bluntly. I didn't have time to mess around. Something told me that my mother wasn't telling me everything. I had a sneaking suspicion that there was a good amount of danger involved if she chose to leave _me…_with him.

He looked away from me, breathing deeply. Other than that, he looked strangely calm.

I placed a hand on his cheek, slowly forcing him to look at me.

"I'm sorry. Maybe someday I'll feel comfortable enough around you that I can tell you, but for now, you can't blame me for not wanting to trust a stranger. You understand that, right? I know you have your own share of secrets as well. Get some sleep; it's a bit late to be eating dinner now."

He looked into my eyes again.

"I'll hold you to that."

I allowed my lips to curve into a small smile before I turned over, and allowed the exhaustion from the day to overcome me.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N I apologize for the long wait for Chapter 3. For the most part, I'm going to try to update every week, with some exceptions depending on how busy I am. But, if I'm going to be late, I'll put two chapters up. Like I'm doing today.**

**Hopefully, you like the story so far! I'm going to try to keep the author notes short, so if there's something else I have to say, it'll be on my profile. This is my first fanfic so any news on it will be up there.**

**As always, Read and Review!**

Chapter 4 His POV

I lay down, my head resting lightly on the bedroll, trying to will myself to sleep. Mel was right next to me, so close that I could touch her without extending my arm. Rolling over to face her, I raised my elbow, leaning my cheek on my palm.

Gazing at her perfect profile, I shook my head silently. I rolled over yet again. Attractive yes, but no more than that. I didn't have the time or patience to get involved with someone, friend or otherwise. There were more pressing matters to consider. A girl like her could never survive in the world I came from. She was so isolated from politics, war, and those other ugly ideas inherent solely in man. Even if I wanted to, I couldn't answer her questions. I didn't care that it would be more than unfair for her, I couldn't put my new acquaintance in danger.

I struggled to avoid the guilt that was threatening to overwhelm me. How could I try to protect this girl when I had only just met her? Who was I to judge her capabilities?

Still, that world was cold and unforgiving especially to newcomers. She would be forced to probe that she belonged. Even if I did tell her as much as I was allowed, prior knowledge could only get you so far. Without any connections of her own, there was an even smaller chance that she would survive if she managed to be accepted. Hauling her into a society like that was a death sentence. The fighting wouldn't kill her, the politics would.

I tried to get comfortable. Raising my arms, I placed them behind my head. Why was I even thinking about her in relation to where I was from? It didn't matter in the slightest. If I had any say in the matter, she would never even hear of it, let alone have to survive it.

Sleep tugged at my eyelids, pulling me down into a restless slumber haunted by dreams.

_My breathing was ragged, my heart pounding a mile a minute. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, urging me onward. Lungs burning, I fled the blacksmith's shop._

_I ran without looking back. The man would be after me in a second. Once he started chasing me, I would lose all chance of escape._

_Pushing my hair out of my eyes, I spotted the path leading into the forest. My eyes lingered on the "Do not enter!" signs before I sped past them. Even braving the forest was better than being caught._

_That man thought I stole from him. The imbecile still didn't realize that I was being framed? What use did I have from those rusty weapons he claimed were from the Weasley's long forgotten stock? They were obvious fakes, but the rest of the town would never believe me. Why trust my word over that of a longstanding citizen?_

_Why trust the traveler indeed? I scoffed. If I had any say in it, I wouldn't be the one who had to pay for their mistake. They would be continually robbed since they accused the wrong man._

_My feet led me into the welcoming cover of the trees. Despite what people said, it didn't look dangerous. The trees were beautiful shades of green, not like the murky swamp-like tones, I had been told._

_Pushing the thought aside, I listened for footsteps behind me. Sure enough, they stopped at the end of the path._

"_Boy! Get back here. Even someone as crazy as you wouldn't dare to enter that place. You may be nineteen but you can't even fight, let alone survive there!"_

_I grinned in amusement. He really thought I was useless. I spent the last few days bumbling about the town, making an utter fool of myself. Apparently, I was a convincing actor. All the better. There was no reason for the town to know my skills. They didn't need to know where I came from before I walked into this place._

_Twisting around, I ran a little farther into the forest and sank to the ground. The rough bark of a tree was cutting into my back, reminding me of my location._

_I couldn't return to the town. They wouldn't let me in, let alone accept me as one of them. Then again, that was a good thing. If they made me leave, at least they would be safe._

_That man chasing me was the least of my concerns. What if the hunters found me? I had narrowly escaped them to enter the town. God forbid they find me so close to those ignorant townsfolk._

_Thump. I silently jumped to my feet. Pushing myself away from the tree, I stepped back away from the source of the sound. Thump._

_So I underestimated the hunters. They were already here. Thump. Thump, thump. Not only were they here, they were twenty feet away._

_I looked around for anyplace to hold my ground, but found none. There was no room to fight in this undergrowth. Thump. That was a clever thought on their part. If I couldn't fight, they could just end the hunt in the forest. _

_Thump. I grinned in anticipation. It looked like I had two choices: kill or be killed._

I woke up with a start. Frowning, I pushed the hair out of my eyes. Why did I wake up? It wasn't a bad memory. If I had stayed asleep, I would have relived the beating I gave them. All twenty-five of them. Not too shabby, although I had clearly become rusty.

Shrugging, I snuggled down into the bedroll, waiting for sleep to overtake me once more.

_I ran home, proudly slinging the dead deer on my back. Father would be proud. He always praised me when I brought food home. Said I was the best son one could ever ask for, and gave me a bone-crushing hug._

_When I reached the house, I pulled open the door, and walked down the hallway._

"_Mama? Father?" I called out. _

_No answer. I shrugged, thinking they were probably out back preparing the meal. Pausing a second to adjust the deer on my back, I started down the hall._

_As I got closer to the kitchen, I heard sobs echoing against the cabinets. Peering through a crack in the door, I saw my father wrap his arm around my mother, trying in vain to comfort her._

"_What, hic, are we supposed to, hic, do now?" she sobbed into his tearstained shirt._

"_Shhhh, dear. They can't do anything yet," he muttered under his breath. _

_She covered her face in her hands, trying to stop the flow of tears. After a final shudder, she wiped the tears away and stood up straight._

"_No use crying. We have to prepare. Even if they can't do anything yet, we have to be ready for the worst. I'm not going to sit by and watch it happen."_

_My father smiled down at her, and hugged her tightly. She smiled back, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him lightly on the lips. His smile widened for a second, before he leaned down and deepened the kiss. Her hands wrapped around his neck just before I looked away. _

_Ew, I didn't want to see that. My eleven-year-old self shuddered at the thought. They would be disappearing off to their room shortly. Sure enough, five minutes later, the back door to the kitchen closed. I heard my father's footsteps down the hall until he reached their room. The door opened, and closed with a bang._

_I pulled open the kitchen door, and put the deer down near the rest of the meat. I would gut it later. My eyes surveyed the room until they landed on a piece of yellowed paper sitting on the table. Picking it up, I began to read._

_ James and Lily,_

_ I'm sorry. We're going to be attacked. They're coming. Soon. Don't bother to try to help us. We're not even going to fight. As soon as they come to attack, we're running. All of us. Just thought you should know. Don't worry about us. We'll be fine._

_ All my love,_

_ Sirius _

_I sat down on the chair. My mind was a whirl of thoughts. They couldn't be attacked. No wonder Mama and Father were going to help them. Sirius needed them. Everyone needed them. But, they would be alright. They were only thirty-two. I wouldn't lose my parents because of this. They couldn't die because of this._

I rolled off the bedroll, and landed with a bump. Rubbing my back, I sat up.

It was ironic really. That the last thought was that they wouldn't die. That they couldn't die. A week later, they had kissed me goodbye and left. I never saw them again.

I received a note from Sirius saying that they had been killed. He came down to visit me, and helped me pack. We left the next day, locking up the house, and swearing we would avenge my parents' deaths. The vow was an empty one, and we both knew it. How could we track down the killers? What difference would it have made? My parents were dead.

Sitting up, I shrugged. It wasn't that I didn't care about them. I loved them, and I loved Sirius. They were the only three people I cared about in life. But, they weren't a part of my day-to-day life. Two of them were now gone, and the third was wandering the countryside. He had been my parents' best friend. Before leaving, he told me that he would see me soon. He kept the promise. Every few weeks, we would get together somewhere and compare our efforts.

It was funny how slowly our motives changed from revenge to revolution. We hated the society that killed James and Lily. And we were now willing to risk everything to change it. The last year or so, we had been working behind the scenes. Surprisingly, I found a new side to Sirius.

When I first met him, I thought he was a player through and through. I couldn't have been more right. I suppose people said he rubbed off on me.

He was tall with long dark curly hair that he normally left down around his face. His eyes were a stormy gray that always held a mischievous gleam. The well-known prankster always had something up his sleeve. It was hard to take him serious especially when he denounced politics and refused to associate with the "big-headed fawning pigs" as he affectionately called the courtiers, including his own family.

After James and Lily died, he had taken me under his wing. Once I reached fifteen, he introduced me into society. He excused his absence by explaining he wanted to travel with me. After establishing he was back for good, he threw himself into politics.

I never thought he would be good at it. He always seemed too fun loving to be willing to engage in the court. But, truth be told, he was perfect. Once I too, had settled down, we set our plan in motion.

We were demolishing the court from the inside out. The court would go down with all of its politics, style, and verbal battles thrust in its face.

I lay back down on my bedroll. Visiting the Weasleys was all part of the plan. I couldn't allow Mel to be a distraction. Too much was at stake.

I twisted yet again. Introducing Mel to the court might not be a bad idea. I would have to watch over her like a hawk to keep her out of harm's way, but she would undeniably shake up the court.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Hmmm…wish more people read the story, but I guess it's fine. I like the story so far, so I'll keep writing.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize. It all belongs to J.K. Rowling. **

**Sorry for the horrendously long wait. Got very busy with tennis. At least the season finally started! And, I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to type another chapter. I hope this is long enough to keep you happy for a week and a half. I promise I'll try to get another chapter up before school starts on the 8****th****. Would anyone believe me if I said I'll finally be a sophomore in high school? Haha.**

**Hopefully, part of this chapter will explain what's going on. Well, it ties in how Mel gets involved, but you might have to do a little digging. I hope it's pretty clear, though the way I wrote it, I hate how I had to portray one of the characters. Or, rather, I hated what I had to do to one of the characters. You'll see what I mean.**

**Hmm…I not quite happy with this chapter. It's definitely not my best, and even though it's long and provides a few explanations, I kind of cut off a scene really fast. I didn't mean to, but that wasn't actually supposed to be the main scene. It just sort of became it, if you know what I mean. **

**If you didn't like this chapter, you're not alone. (hehe. Good song by the way. Not Alone by Park Jung Min for you kpop fans out there) I dislike this chapter, but it helps set up for a scene I particularly love a chapter or two later. Anyway, enjoy and please let me know what you think! I'd love to hear from you!**

**As always, Read and Review!**

Chapter 5 Her POV

I woke up to a rustling sound. Groaning, I tried to push the rustling out of my bleary thoughts and force myself back to sleep. The rustling continued.

I groaned again and pushed myself over to my boots. Lacing them up for the second time that night, I stumbled out of the tent. One hand reached forward to push the flaps out of the way while the other rubbed at my bleary eyes.

Honestly, I couldn't get a moment of peaceful uninterrupted sleep. Twisting my head around, I tried to pinpoint the rustling sound. I snapped my head in the other direction; there it was again. My fingers inched down my side until they closed about the hilt of my sword. Silently, I padded over to the trees, ears cocked for the rustling sound.

Pressing up against the trees, I pulled the branches back. My hand clenched my sword, the cool leather comforting my jumpy nerves. I drew in a quick breath, and stepped forward.

Searching , I looked for the source of the rustling. Trees, trees, more trees. I chuckled quietly. What, was I listening for the proverbial bunny to appear? Shaking my head, I continued to peer into the darkness, knowing that I hadn't imagined the annoying racket.

Pushing my hair behind my ear, I strained my eyes one more time, deciding that I would go back if I still didn't see anything. And, of course, that's when I saw it.

I jerked in surprise; it was a person. He lay on the ground in a shivering heap. Dried blood and dirt matted the shaggy, black hair, bunching it up in filthy curls around his neck. Fresh red lines seeped through the threadbare trousers that were slung low about his hips. His arms were curled around him, fingers seeking to ease the pain from the numerous cuts on his bare back.

All caution thrown out the window, I hurried closer to the man's side. Bending over, I reached out to touch his shoulder. Right before they made contact, my fingers retreated slightly. Who was this man, and who had done this too him?

I reached out again, mindful of his injuries.

"Hey, wake up," I strived to keep the impatience out of my voice. He had to wake up. I didn't even have time to help him. If anything, I should be trying to figure out what was going on with the rest of my family.

No response.

"Hey," I called again louder.

The man groaned, and turned his head to face me. His eyes fluttered open, and looked up.

"What? Can't see I'm in pain here?" he snapped.

"Well, I was going to help, but now I think I might change my mind!" my temper rose for some inane reason.

"Ugh, just help me already. I'm sorry, okay?" he said unconvincingly.

I shrugged back the anger. There was no reason to be riled up by an injured man.

_Heal him, and leave him, _I chanted silently.

"Fine, what happened to you?" I asked.

He stiffened imperceptibly, and his eyes narrowed, "Why do you want to know?"

I fought the urge to roll my eyes.

"And you expect me to treat you how exactly?"

He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off.

"Look, you don't have to tell me the details, or who did this to you. I just need to know how they went about this. Obviously they used swords," I added helpfully.

The man thought for a moment before opening his mouth again, "I was attacked."

This time I didn't fight the urge; I made a show of dramatically rolling my eyes.

"No, of course not. Couldn't have guessed," I muttered sarcastically.

He smirked, "Fine, I got caught, and they decided that using me for sword practice was a good idea. Later, they brought out a whip for a few minutes."

"Alright. I'm assuming when they were done with you, they dropped you here."

He nodded.

Looking him over once more, I stood up from my crouch.

"I'll be right back even though I have a guest right now."

I walked off without waiting for confirmation. When I reached my tent, I picked up a sheet from the corner, a couple bandages, and carefully walked around the ambassador.

Making my way to a different tent, I pulled aside a tent flap. Once inside, I grabbed a bucket of water and a dry towel. Pulling all the items closer to my chest, I walked back through the trees until I reached the man.

Bending down, I placed my materials down alongside him, and got to work.

I dipped the towel in the bucket, and wrung out the excess water. Glancing down at the man, I sat down and pulled his head into my lap.

"This might sting," I warned, before gingerly dabbing at the cuts.

He shrugged, but then winced when the cloth made contact.

"So, what's your name?" I tried to distract him.

"Sirius. Sirius Black," he responded through clenched teeth.

I smiled down at him, pausing momentarily to access the farthest part of his back.

"Well, then. A pleasure, I'm sure. The name's Mel," I didn't bother to give him my last name.

He nodded, but didn't inquire any further.

"I don't suppose you'll tell me what you're doing here. The Blacks are obviously meant for high society," I sniffed, trying to show disdain for the life I once lived.

"Let's just say, it's complicated," he replied quickly.

I shrugged, and pulled the bandages out.

"Why is the Weasley family not in high society?" he threw back.

"It's complicated."

He smirked, "Alright, I won't ask."

I nodded in thanks, and continued bandaging.

We sat in silence while I finished, each absorbed in our own thoughts. Finally, I wrapped the last bandage, and helped him sit up.

"You have to get out of here," I told him once he was partially upright, leaning heavily against my side.

"Why?" he looked up at me sharply.

"I can't tell you, just trust me when I say that I don't know what's going on, but I think there's a good amount of danger involved."

He looked at me curiously, a look of indecision flickering in his stormy gray eyes. A moment later, determination flashed across his face.

"I'll tell you what I'm doing here, if you tell me what you know," he offered.

I thought for a moment. This man was a Black, and undoubtedly was better informed. If I could get some kind of idea of what was going on, it would only benefit the ambassador and me.

"Fine. Go ahead, I promise I'll tell you what happened, even though it's mostly guesswork," I agreed.

Nodding thoughtfully, he started talking.

"I'm assuming you know about the Blacks. And judging by what little you've told me, I'm guessing we have very little time. I'll keep this short then. As I was saying, you know about the Blacks. They are one of the more prestigious families, and they carry all that comes with that particular label," he laughed cynically, "Truth be told, the families manage to cover up the more spectacular atrocities, so even I can't say what they're hiding. Let's just say, two of my best friends, James and Lily, were married. They lived with their son in Godric's Hollow, seemingly far away from the cutthroat society."

I nodded for him to continue; my hand playing with a strand of hair. Biting my lip, I considered telling him that I could already guess what happened next. Even though I lived outside of that society, I knew what he was referring to. Unfortunately, that meant he had no new information. The Weasleys _were _quite prominent at one time.

"A man named Tom Riddle decided he wanted to 'cleanse' the families of all the 'non-pureblood' members. He wanted to rid them of anyone not born into the higher society- anyone who had married in. Many of the families agreed, thinking that restoring the families to their intended perfection was a worthwhile task. They didn't suspect that he wouldn't stop there."

I sat there faking shock. Even without him finishing the story, I knew what happened next.

"James and Lily, they're dead, aren't they?" I asked quietly, combing my fingers more insistently through my hair.

Sirius looked up at me. After staring for a second, he closed his eyes, and muttered a quiet yes.

I stood up abruptly and pulled him up with me.

"Fine. I'll do what I can for this son, should I ever find out his name."

He stared at me incredulously," You? What can you do?"

I grinned mischievously, "I'm a Weasley, remember? I can still pull quite a few strings." Well, I was a Weasley essentially. No need to tell this man that a father wasn't always the birth father. I didn't need to bore him with the details.

Leaving it at that, I spun on my heel. My hand extended, pointing in the direction of the road.

"That's the road that leads closest to Ottery St. Catchpole. The ambassador and I will be heading that way if I have anything to do with it. Meet us there, and I'll see what I can do. Something tells me this doesn't just involve you anymore. My mother thinks there's enough of a threat that she left the entire camp and dragged the family off. Well, they won't be in Ottery, but if the situation's as bad as you say, mind that you didn't say very much, we'll need to prepare."

My mind was planning furiously, and thinking about how to discourage Sirius from arguing about his sudden dismissal.

To my surprise, he simply nodded and walked off in the direction I pointed. He brought his hand up in a small wave, and pushed through the trees. My eyes narrowed suspiciously. Sirius didn't seem to have any trouble with his injuries.

I stared after him for a moment, but quickly picked up the items I brought with me. After I placed them back inside their tent, I hurried back to my tent for some sleep.

Kicking my boots off, I lay down on my bedroll. My arm rested across my tired eyes as I tried to will myself to sleep. Rolling onto my side, I tried counting sheep, but was disturbed halfway.

Another stupid noise.

Annoyed, I turned toward the sound in aggravation. My eyes widened when I ran into a muscular chest. The body was twisting about, writhing in some unknown agony. I looked up at the face hidden by black hair. Snickering, I reached a hand up and pushed a lock away from his eyes. He twitched in response, his face scrunching up, but continued tossing and turning.

I sighed. He couldn't stay still for one minute. Every time I got comfortable, he would shift so he was pressed up against my back, threatening to roll off the bedroll, or smack into the side of the tent.

Blinking, I shifted out of the bedroll, and pulled on my boots again. No sleep for me tonight. Before he woke up, I wanted to explore camp a bit more. It was two o'clock in the morning, but it never hurt to be prepared. I still had no idea what the threat would be. That was all the more reason to be on my guard.

Turning back to him, I lifted my hand, and ran my fingers through the ridiculously soft black hair.

"I'll be right back, darling," I cooed, a smirk tugging at my lips. Imitating those village girls was too entertaining for my own good.

The tossing continued, accompanied by faint whimpering. My eyes widened when he gripped my arm tightly, refusing to let go.

My grin sobered in the blink of an eye. He was having a nightmare. Reaching up again, I latched onto his shoulder and shook him. To my surprise, he started moving more, muttering under his breath occasionally. Struggling to catch the words he was whispering, I unconsciously leaned into his chest.

"Have to keep running. They could catch me otherwise. Why is she here? No…can't do it. She can't…got to make her leave…she can't take this anymore…no…mother, what are you doing? Mother? Mother!"

At the last word, his eyes flew open and he bolted upright, knocking me to the ground. He looked over when my head hit his thigh with a dull thud. I stayed there for a second, ignored the pounding headache, and contemplated my luck.

An arm wrapped around my waist followed by another around my shoulders. Pulling me against his chest, he dragged my bedroll closer. After arranging it for a moment, he let me inch away from him to sit down on the bedroll.

Running a hand through his hair, he smirked at me.

"I know I'm good looking, but there's no need to fall all over me."

Trying not to roll my eyes, I played along.

"You caught me red handed. I was simply ogling your divine features," I smirked back.

His eyes narrowed slightly as if he was disappointed I wasn't melting or blushing. Inwardly, I grinned. It would take a bit more than that. He scrutinized me for a moment longer before turning away.

"Why are you up now? Isn't it still dark?" he asked.

I debated whether to ask him about the nightmare or not. Deciding against it, I opened my mouth to respond. My mind searched for a reasonable excuse that didn't make me sound foolish.

"I didn't want to wake you up, but you turned the moment I stood. Then I fell," my mouth twitching in amusement as I made it his fault.

"Why were you going out to begin with?" he waved aside my excuse.

"I'm worried," I admitted. "I don't know why my entire family left, or for how long. My mother didn't help any. She refused to give me a reason. Just told me to be careful, and that she was leaving the camp to us."

I twisted her words around in the last bit. She left me to guard him and the camp, but I couldn't tell him that. A man's pride was fickle enough without squashing it in the most demeaning way possible. How could I tell him I was protecting him?

"So, you want to walk around the camp to make sure everything's alright," he finished. It wasn't a question.

I nodded, biting my lip. Truth be told, that was just an excuse, but there was good deal of truth behind it. I was worried, and I did want to look around camp. At the very least, I could reassure myself that nothing was going to happen tonight.

His eyes locked on mine, looking at me with an expression I couldn't name. We stared at each other for a good minute. Finally, he looked away.

"Fine. Let's go."

I smiled in relief. One more thing I didn't have to worry about. He…I still didn't know his name.

"Thanks…" I said.

"Harry. Harry Potter," he stuck his hand out.

I shook it, wondering why a frown flashed across his face.

"Mel," I replied. He didn't need to know my last name.

"Weasley," he supplied.

I shrugged. Let him think what he wanted.

He stared at me again before gesturing for me to lead the way out of the tent.

Good. I could live with this guy. He wasn't nosy. I would tell him in due time…perhaps.


End file.
